


When Death Comes Knocking

by Severa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Ficlet, Gen, No Plot, Oneshot, Possible Avengers: Endgame Spoilers if you’re avoiding trailers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), gen - Freeform, less point, writing characters I don’t get to use often
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/Severa
Summary: Hela and Bruce have a conversation.





	When Death Comes Knocking

“One more time,” Bruce said carefully, rubbing his palms together. Standing alone in Tony’s workshop wasn’t a new thing, not by a long shot, but feeling alone was. These days he could stare down the long barrel of a gun and not be sure that he was going to spit the bullet out. What a time for the Hulk to call it quits.

“Here,” said the intruder, pointing to a single dot among more dots. She’d engraved them into the glass table top with the point of a black dagger, discarded now, stalking around the corner with impatient grace. Bruce had the impression she’d use them on him if he asked her to repeat herself (again). “That’s where your compatriots wander.”

He crossed his arms for lack of knowing what to do with his hands, tucking them in his sides and maintaining a healthy distance from the conversation.

_Half of all life gone and she’s the one who survives._

Not the weirdest thing. Definitely not the worst, considering this last month, but not good either.

“We killed you. Or tried to,” he said hesitantly, rocking back on his heels and forward again. She leaned against the edge of the table she’d vandalized. “Why are you telling me this?” His eyes drifted further behind her, where DUM-E dared to roll close, claw-lens peering over to see the damage she’d done. He beeped curiously, which was the most sound anyone had gotten out of him in a week. “Why do you care where Tony is?”

This was his life now. Depressed robots and runaway Asgardians.

“Well, my dear,” said the Goddess of Death, smiling like she knew more than she let on, “Here’s the thing.”

Bruce was already moving by the time she was. But a single step back wasn’t enough to stop her from invading his personal space, having cleared the distance between them before he’d even had the thought to call for Steve or Natasha. The woman he’d watched explode in the destruction of a realm loomed over him, smelling distinctly - absurdly - like a campfire.

“You and your merry band of vagabonds succeeded. You razed Asgard. Destroyed me.” For every step back he took, she persisted. “Congratulations.”

_C’mon, you big green bastard._

“Thanks,” he responded flatly. The Hulk didn’t so much as care to change a single vein green, effectively hibernating when Bruce didn’t bully him into talking. “So?”

“So,” she parroted, letting him take a last step back into a wall. She didn’t follow, allowing him a foot of personal space. “Let me pose a philosophical question to you, Midgardian.” Hands on her hips, purposefully poised, she stared down at him with an expression of long-suffering tolerance. “What happens to death when it dies?”

 _She comes back a bigger bitch than before_ was the first thought that came to mind. Stupid and sarcastic, but true. Clint would be proud.

“Philosophically...” Bruce said carefully, tempering the words he wanted to say for the words she wanted to hear. “Death can’t be killed. It just is.”

“Precisely.” Her smile was predictably condescending, the tilt of her head infuriating. “I just am. Differently, perhaps. But all the same...”

He smoothed down his shirt, adjusting his glasses around the ears.

“Different enough that you want to help?” It felt too heavy with skepticism even as he said it, but she didn’t show any inclination towards being offended.

“Help?” she repeated plainly. Her hands fell to her sides, expression turning sour. “And to think he called you the clever one.”

He couldn’t help the passing curiosity her comment brought - that it was designed to bring - but he bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to ignore it. No one ever accused the Asgardians of being concise or clear. Buying into her bullshit wouldn’t get him anywhere.

When it was clear he wouldn’t bite, Hela dismissed the entire thought with a wave of her hand, bitter.

“See it as you will. But out there,” she gestured back towards her crude map, which DUM-E was still chirping over, arm craned towards the ceiling like he was trying to get someone’s attention. “You leave your friends to die.”

“What do you want with Tony?” Boldly, recklessly, Bruce shouldered around her to walk down the short steps onto the main floor. DUM-E whirred around to beep at him. “If he’s alive, he can take care of himself. Could probably build a spaceship out of a box of scraps and pure spite. He’s coming home.” The robot whined in distress when Bruce leaned over her carvings. A rough star map, unrecognizable to him. “He’s coming home, bud.”

If he was alive. If. Someone had to be feeding Hela information about the Avengers, because she shouldn’t know the first thing about them on her own. Not about him and definitely not about Tony. The Hulk had been the one at the Battle for Asgard. Beyond that big green baby and Thor, they should all be a mystery to her. How had she even found the compound? Thor had been off-planet with Rocket for weeks.

“You doubt me?” she wondered. He dragged his fingers over the unfamiliar constellations cracked across the glass, carefully picking up the blade she’d discarded. How it cut so cleanly through glass he couldn’t fathom, but it was unnaturally heavy in his hand.

“Shouldn’t I?”

“Any other day, perhaps.” She joined him, standing on the opposite side of the table. DUM-E spun his wheels over the polished floor, squealing. “I fear you don’t understand the gravity of this situation.”

Bruce frowned. “I’ve got a good enough grip on half the world dying, thanks.”

“Do you?” she wondered, tapping her nails across the glass. “Because the gates of Hel stand closed. The hall empty but for a few. Half the universe gone, the majority of my people eradicated...” she laughed softly, even though Bruce got the impression she didn’t find it very funny at all. In fact, she was wound so tight that that her fingers trembled with the strain; one nail caught itself in the glass, and then the next, until she was pushing spiderweb fractures across the tabletop. “And yet few of them stand in the realm of the dead.”

Carefully, Bruce cleaned his glasses. DUM-E pulled back, playing at scared the best that a bot could. But he kept himself even, considering the possibilities of what she was telling him.

“So...” he swallowed hard, gingerly placing his glasses on the cracked glass. “They’re not dead?”

“Ah,” she murmured, pulling her nails free from the glass. Shards broke away in sharp, clear puzzle pieces. “Clever after all.”

It hadn’t been that long since Hela had burned alive in Asgard. Less time still since another half of Asgard had died, since the Valkyrie had gone missing and the Hulk had last fought. The Snap was barely a month gone. The world was still in shambles.

But here he was, talking to Death like a friend.

“Well,” he sighed. “I hope you know how to get to them, because I sure as Hel don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really love how this turned out even though I have no idea what to do with it.


End file.
